Inspired
by soap and sanitizer
Summary: Clingyshipping ficlets.
1. Author's notes

This is _not _a chapter. Just a note about these ficlets—they're all inspired by one or two songs, and they'll probably all be clingyshipping. I'll put the name(s) of the song(s) before each chapter. I have a lot of ideas that never get finished being written up; if one of the chapters is one of these many, it'll have an colon after the title of the chapter. I may or may not finish these, but you, as the reader, may want to watch and see if any ficlet in particular you like (that's unfinished) has the colon removed from its name.


	2. Mouth

Song: Sink Into Me, Taking Back Sunday/Honey in the Sun, Camera Obscura

**Mouth**

Lucas finds that he's always been fascinated by Barry's mouth.

His childhood friend's lips looked soft—smooth, creamy, and though they weren't painted bright pink with cherry flavored gloss like Dawn's, (Barry's were a pleasant hue between peach and flesh) Lucas found that he was unable to tear his eyes away from them.

Not that he would ever want to.

At times, Lucas would wonder about well, many things. He would wonder about when it first was that he had became infatuated with the blonde's tantalizing mouth—not only that, he wondered when he'd become infatuated with Barry, period. After that, he wondered what that mouth would taste like—probably honey and vanilla; something warm and comforting, he was almost 100% sure of that.

But perhaps he was wrong. Maybe Barry's mouth tasted of spices, after all, Barry did love spicy food. Then again maybe it tasted like oran berries—that sounded about right. Oran berries and honey; Lucas was sure that was what the inside Barry's mouth tasted like; what the blonde's saliva tasted like.

Lucas felt his tongue lap over his own dry lips as his mind delved deeper into thought.

Lucas would bet anything that once those parceled lips parted, the inside was hot—probably burningly so. He could practically feel the velvety inside's of the slender blonde's mouth; it was wet, slick, and humid.

Shaking his head, Lucas let out a sigh of frustration as he took off his hat and mussed his hair with his fingers roughly. "What is _wrong _with me," he groaned out, staring out at the ever still lake.

The boy rubbed the butt of his palms into his eyes and rested his elbows on his jean covered knee caps. He really should've appreciated this place a bit more. It was always quiet—peaceful; a good place to sort out his thoughts, and be a complete and utter _creep _over Barry. One of these days he was going to snap—he just knew it. He was probably going to run about mugging women and raping small boys; probably little blonde ones, too. Little blonde, curly haired boys with bright, mesmerizing amber eyes, downy skin and—no. No more of that.


	3. The Sea

Song: The Sea, Corrine Bailey Rae/True Affection, The Blow

**The Sea**

Damian kneads the wet sand between his toes, and watches, mesmerized, as the waves crash over his pale feet for what seems to be the thousandth time to pull the grains from the nooks and crannies of his joints. Rubbing the ligaments together, he observes the imprints his heels leave and the water recedes, leaving foam to fizzle away on the shore. He feels a light touch on his shoulder.

"Your pants are soaked."

The blond casts his dazed gaze to his pant bottoms, which were now clinging to his calves. He could have sworn he'd rolled them up earlier. The other stares out at the horizon for a moment. "It's pretty out here," Damian says, leaning forward onto his knees. Those grey eyes seem to judge him for an instant before taking a seat (albeit a bit further up near the beach) beside the blond.

Lucas stares at Damian's backside, curious as to what's got the usually energetic boy so calm and quiet—it almost seems like he's sulking. A slight breeze rolls in from the seemingly never-ending sea and runs its gangly fingers through Damian's hair, ruffling it for a short span of time. The beret-clad trainer watches as Damian slouches forward, sighing softly.

Damian? _Sighing?_

There most definitely seems to be something awry in the out of character movement, and he really, truly wants to ask what was wrong, but Lucas' dominantly bashful side forces him into being mute. Instead, he drags his bottom across the moist sand, the sound of his jeans against its surface creating a scratching noise and moving himself into closer proximity to the blond. Within the next few minutes, he feels the water, concentrated with salt, seep through the fabric of his shoes.

Damian's folded his arms over his knees to cover up his face, but peeks an eye out once Lucas asserts his presence with a string of coughs and unintelligible mumbles.

The breeze washes over them for another long moment.

"Dawn dumped me," Damian says finally, his sad, puppy-like eyes focusing intently on Lucas's features.

Lucas blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"She—"

"She dumped me," the blond repeats, burying his face in his arms again.

To think. Dawn dumped Damian. It was crazy—Lucas had been so sure they were perfect for each other. It was apparent he hadn't been the only one who though that—Damian seems, well, shaken, to say the least over the whole ordeal.

He struggls to find words as he draws faces in the sand. 'I'm sorry,' 'You can do better,' and 'There's hotter girls around' are among the top contenders in his comfort line arsenal.

However, this is what comes out.

"That sucks, dude."

Damian's form is still. Then, suddenly, Lucas finds himself being gruffly shoved onto his side. He lets out an 'oof' as he catches himself on his palms. "What—"

The blond's arms are still outstretched—proof that he had, indeed, pushed Lucas. His shoulders are shaking and Lucas could hear some troubled breaths escape his mouth. Lucas stutters and attempts to apologize, gently resting his fingers on Damian's trembling arms.

Gradually, the orange eyed boy looks up at the other. There's a twisting and contorting smile on his face—as if he's trying to stay angry, mad, sad, and all the other things, but simply _can't._

"Y-You're an idiot," he says, snorting slightly as he begins to laugh. "A complete idiot!" Damian grasps the other's arms and pulls him into a squeeze, quaking with laughter.

Lucas is lost during this whole thing, but pat the blond lightly on the back for the short instance that their hug lasts. Damian pulls away near the thirty second mark, thankfully saving them both their masculinity. "That _sucks?" _The blond asks rhetorically as he wipes a tear from his eye.

"Real smooth, Luke. Real smooth."

"Wh-what? What's wrong with that?"

Damian shakes his head, his breathing still riddled with chuckles, and shifts so that he's sitting cross legged. "N-Nothing."

Lucas wants to question (now more than ever), but the smile on Damian's face keeps satisfied him for the time being.


	4. Coffee:

**Coffee**

Black was the color of the back of his eyelids. It was soothing and complimented the dead silence of the night; Lucas had never felt so relaxed in his life. His creaky old bed was supporting him surprisingly well tonight, and his mine was, for once, at ease.

It only took him minutes to fall into a deep and heavy sleep.

It took two milliseconds of high pitched ringing to wake him from that sleep.

Proof of the interrupted rest dribbled on his chin as he rolled over onto his back, eyelashes crusty and stuck together as he slammed his hand down on the blinking pokegear on the nightstand.

A voice chimed through.

"Hey, hey, Lucas! Wow, I'm surprised you're awake; where are you right now?"

Lucas couldn't find the will to speak with his mind in its sleep-fogged state.

"Lucas! Hello? I _know _you're there, you picked up! Answer me or I'm fining you ten million the next time I see you!"

The raven haired teen rolled onto his stomach and groaned loudly.

"I'm in _bed._"

Then there was silence on the other line. Lucas sincerely hoped that whoever it was had hung up or been disconnected by some divine force. His hopes were crushed as the voice crackled through again.

"Well, get up! Meet me at the Jubilife pokecenter in ten! You hear me? _Ten minutes! _Don't be late, or el—"

The grey eyed boy in bed flailed his arm around blindly until it once again hit the communicator. He brought in close to his mouth and spoke in a croaking, sleep deprived voice.

"Shut up. Tell me who this is."

There was laughter on the other line.

"What, too tired to read the caller ID?"

"I'm hanging up."

"No, no! Come on, buddy, learn how to take a joke! Yeesh!"

Lucas waited for the other to continue, but only heard the whipping of wind on the other line. He spoke once more, this time putting stress on every syllable of each word.

"_Who is this._"

"It's me, Damian!"

Damian? Who—Lucas cracked his sticky eyelids apart to look at the watch-like mechanism. On screen, the picture of a young blond was displayed. It took a good thirty seconds for the image to spur a reaction from his mind.

"_Damian?" _The name rolls out of his mouth like some foreign language.

"Yeah, that's right! You're down to five minutes, by the way! I'm tired of waiting, so I'm going to head over to the pokecenter right now! If you're late, that's _twenty _million that you're being fined!"

"Wait, Damian, I—"

"_Twenty million, Lucas_!"

The line was cut immediately after that. Lucas groaned again before sitting up and picking the build up from the apex of his eyes. He checked the time. 4:17AM.

Shaking his head and stepping the sides of his face, the shaggy haired boy forced himself up and off the bed, trudging over to his dresser.


	5. Shirtless

Song: Spice!, Len Kagime

**Shirtless**

This was the first time I'd ever been shirtless in front of Dia. How he'd convinced me to do it, I was unsure. How he managed to keep his own shirt on _and _convinced me to do it, I was double unsure. Why I wasn't shouting at him in fury like some wildebeest, I was triple unsure.

His dull, lazy eyes grazed over my torso like a cow gnawing on cud. I could've sworn I saw a hint of a smile on his mouth—the moment that registered in my mind, I felt my face begin to swelter with heat and embarrassment. I immediately began to feel indecent—like some sort of low-grade porno star. I had to cover myself up. I had to cover _something _up.

Before I could actually decide what, my fingers and palms crept over my nipples.


	6. Dance

Prom was a bust. Barry got stood up again; a horrible real-life flashback to homecoming- at which coach Flint made an inevitable white balloon joke. He swears it was just like the movies. A horrible excuse of a light show, streamers which had fallen down on one side, and all his friends find themselves paired up when it comes time for the highly anticipated slowdance as the end of the "greatest night of their lives" begins to crown upon them.

He sees Hikari walk out of the gymnasium doors, hung upon her date's arm. She waves at him- and give shim a soft, tired smile. She looks ready to sleep right then and there, and he wants nothing more than to be the one who tucks her into bed, and tell her that she'll be safe from any monsters that may be hiding in her closet. Just like when they were kids.

He gives her a salute goodbye, a pitiful smile stretched out on his face. The plastic punch cup in his hand crunches and creaks as the song switches. There's a whisper of his reflection in the bit of red liquid at the bottom of the cup, and Barry gulps it all down.

The mass of teens are swaying lethargically to this song- it's filled with oohs and the lead singer's voice echoes in a milky sort of way. Barry peers up to the speakers up by the stage, but his line of sight is stopped mid way.

Lucas is walking towards him. The girl who he'd come with could be seen on the other side of the gym. Her arms are folded almost smugly- she looked satisfied with herself. The song switches again. Ambient guitar strums, and then a picking drum beat.

"Uh, hey," the grey eyed boy offers, one hand behind his back as he stops a foot or so in front of the blond. Barry tilts his head.

"Whatever she dared you to do, you don't have to." The muscles in his shoulder feel tight. So tight, stressed, pulled together- he rolls his shoulder and huffs. Lucas looks put off- his eyes are bounding about the room. Finally, his eyes land on Barry's face; his gaze is determined and hesitant at the same time.

"Do you know this song?" He asks, inching his foot closer.

A slow blink, and then a glance to the back of the room- Lucas' date is nowhere to be seen. The orange eyed boy's ears perk up for a second as he rifled through his mind for any recognition. "No, I don't," he answers at last, eyelashes twitching. "It's nice though."

"Isn't it?" His voice shakes and he swallows.

Barry rolls his eyes. "Yeah. That's what I just said." His eyes take on a look of reprieve. "Would you just cut to the chase?" Tired was what the blond felt at this moment in time- tired, impatient, and he felt he'd be doing them both a favor if he could just get Lucas to spit out whatever hairball of a question he had to ask.

"...You have to ask what the name of the song is," Lucas says quietly after a moment, grinding the tip of his shoe into the floor. The cuff of his blazer shifts back and forth as he twiddles his fingers together- Barry straightens up his posture and sighs a little, probably in defeat.

"Alright. What's this song called, Lucas?"

The blond watches as Lucas' shoulders finally begin to sag down from his ears, relaxing at long last. The chorus starts just then, and the answer becomes quickly apparent as the grey eyed boy runs a nervous hand through his hair before holding it out to Barry. "May I have this dance," he says, answering and asking a question at the same time.

The other's tangerine eyes stare at the hand as if it's going to fall off of Lucas' wrist and scamper off. Barry's embarrassment finds its first victim in the cup clenched within his fist, now crumpled and feeble. The expression on Barry's face must be a little bit too much for Lucas.

"Please," he says, eyes to now to the floor and arm still outstreched. Please is a word that Barry has always found himself quite enamored with. It was the best way to get his way.

However, coming from Lucas in this sort of situation- he felt mixed. Leaning forward, as if to gain some privacy from the remaining couples, he asks- "Why?"

The song plays out without accompaniment for a couple of measures.

"I want to."

Barry repeats it in a question from, and Lucas nods in confirmation, suddenly looking him straight in the eye and it abruptly dawns on Barry that their faces are in extreme proximity to each other at the moment. He pulls back, a mood light flickering across his face for a second and distracting Lucas from the rosy hue on his face.

"Really?"

Another nod.

"...You're sure you're not being forced to do this?"

Lucas' brow furrows, and then yet another nod, this time more vigorous than the last.

Barry hums- perhaps intending to keep the other boy in a playful anticipation as he puts a thoughtful look onto his face. "Yeah." They both smile at each other. "But if you step on my feet any, I'll have to fine you."

That night, Barry's feet are the ones causing casualties for the most part- but it turns out neither are particularly efficient at waltzing, or any sort of slow dance for that matter. Lucas seems satisfied- and Barry guesses prom wasn't so much of a disaster.


End file.
